


The Web of Loneliness

by Arkadin



Category: Captain Marvel (Marvel Comics), Spider-Woman (Comic), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and retcons, Civil War (Marvel), F/F, Identity Issues, Secret Invasion (Marvel), angsty tragic femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:31:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8621020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkadin/pseuds/Arkadin
Summary: She is Veranke--champion of the Skrull cause, destroyer of the Avengers. She is strong enough to keep from losing herself in the role she is playing. She would never start caring for Carol Danvers, no matter what...





	

I am Veranke. I am the hand of Mak'jar, the War God, He who loves the universe even as he burns it with his all-consuming flame, first son of the Eternal Skrull and the Queen of the Infinite Names, the God of the great Imperial House of Taramak, whose blood I share, under whose reign the Skrulls spread across the galaxy like a river flood. The Wraiths of the Dark Nebula themselves feared the standard of Taramak. Today, under the weak and crumbling reign of the House of Dorrek, Mak'jar is a mere boogeyman to frighten children. Revelers wear his face in harvest-time and lob tar'kan gourds carved with monstrous faces. But now his name shall be feared again, and the Skrulls will raise the Taramak banner once more and take the galaxy by storm.

In these times of chaos we have lost much, but one thing gives me strength: He loves us.

I have come to this stumbling-block world of Earth to take it for the Skrulls once and for all. The infiltration has begun and I shall lead it, for that is the way of the Taramak. We are the first in the field of battle, taking on all the dangers that our subordinates face, not hiding ourselves in throne rooms, trapped in constant shapes.

Perhaps our weakened rulers of today are afraid of losing themselves. I am not. I take the form of the enemy because I know the Skrull is strong in me, strong enough to persist whatever the shape of my body may be. I am strong. He loves me.

I take the veil of rebirth to my face and command the science-priests to activate the Bio-Tronic Resonator. The patterns of my target's mind and body are transmitted into me by the veil's filaments, seared into my flesh. "I am Jessica Drew!" I cry out. "I am a woman!" I must focus on this, for the dominant Earthling models of gender mean it is a fixed and central fact for them. Though I have worn a feminine aspect for most of my life, it is uncomfortable. "I am an Avenger!"

I have chosen this target for several reasons. She is isolated, with few friends, and she is weak of will and strong of fear. I am the master of my fear. There is always the danger of losing yourself, of being swallowed up in your new identity. But I know her thoughts will never overcome mine.

****

I am sitting in a restaurant with Carol Danvers across from me. Her hair shines golden in the sunlight. Carol Danvers is one of the few close friends Jessica Drew ever had. I have had to take great care to ensure my interactions with her are authentic. I have memorized all the details and jokes and gestures that form the shared language of their friendship.

Friendship has never been a strength of mine by nature. The Taramak lords are more apt to form enemies than friends, perhaps. They are ruled by stormy passions, and their greatness is often their undoing, though what they achieve is more than worth the cost. It is the way of the Skrull to achieve in other lives what they cannot in their own. So I have cultivated our friendship, spoken to her often. In doing so I have learned her doubts, fears, desires, weaknesses. More weapons for my arsenal.

Carol Danvers is telling me all the insignificant little details of her life. She regales me with tales of a battle with some person called Stilt-Man. I laugh and puncture holes in her story. Jessica Drew respects Carol Danvers greatly, but isn't afraid to point out her flaws and failings. I then duly encourage her, letting her know her potential for greatness when she expresses one of her rare doubts. Jessica Drew is one of the few who ever sees those doubts.

"This isn't just some Carol-thing that's going to pass in a few days, is it?" I ask, running my fingers through my hair in a nervous gesture designed to win her trust as I reach for a cigarette. (I do not know why humans smoke these noxious things.) "You're serious."

"Excuse me?" she says in mock-indignation, leaning forward across the table. "Just what is a Carol-thing?"

"Like back when you got on that Atkins kick," I say, holding the cigarette between my fingers and desperately hoping she won't notice I have no intention of putting that thing in my mouth. "We were at the zoo and you started screaming at the monkey about how the banana he was eating was full of carbs and he was going to die."

This was after the Avengers had died, after her dear friend Wanda had betrayed her. Carol had turned to dieting to try to restore some measure of control to her life. It was her new addiction since she wasn't allowed to drink anymore. When that happened Carol Danvers hadn't eaten in three days. When Jessica realized that, she forced her into a nearby diner and got her a good greasy burger for her dinner of the kind she loves. Then they went to Carol's apartment and watched a movie that neither were really paying attention to as Jessica put her hand over her shoulder.

"Ha, ha, no," says Carol. She rests her hand on her cheek. Whenever she's around Jessica, she seems more at ease, more vital and alive. She feels herself able to relax just slightly that titanic force of will that keeps her going. To let herself be vulnerable. 

I reach out to touch her hand. The hand that has struck down many enemies lies beneath mine. "You're the best," I tell her. "Now go out and prove it."

From this meeting I have gathered valuable intelligence. She has bared her soul to me with ease, as she would to no other. This Carol Danvers could be both a valuable asset and a dangerous enemy. My advantage is that she trusts Jessica Drew without reservation. I could strike her down, if need be, or I could shape her to my will...

****

It is a few days after the War. I will admit, with all that time I spent among the Avengers, learning their ways and their history, becoming one of them, I was almost tempted. I almost wondered if I would be happier among them. My own happiness is irrelevant, of course. I am the bearer of the Skrulls' future. Still, it is good to see that I was wrong. Their ideals are nothing but self-serving lies, and they will tear themselves apart given half the chance. They lie to themselves unknowingly. We know we lie, and we will prevail.

I am engaged in one of those pointless little missions to establish my worth as a hero--stopping some ridiculous villain called the Grey Gargoyle from assassinating a Hollywood executive who probably deserves prison twice as much as he does. Then I see her, Carol Danvers, coming down from the sky. Her hair flows in the wind. She places her hands on her hips, beside her bright red sash. 

"I like it when you hit them before they even know what's happening and they wake up in jail and someone has to tell them what happened," she says. "That's the best." Her face shows a knowing confident smirk, but the more subtle tells, the movements of her eyes, suggest uncertainty and fear.

I run away, leaping up into the air and clinging to the wall. That's what Jessica Drew would do. Carol Danvers follows me through the air. We could have a fine chase among the rooftops but I don't want to draw it out. "Come on..." She pleads.

I flip around in midair, meeting her face to face. "I'm not going to fight you."

"Yeah, good. You'd lose." She crosses her arms. "Jessica, come back. The war's over." It is half command and half plea. "There's a lot to do, and you could do it a lot better from over here than from over there."

I land in the alleyway and look up at her, my jaw clenched in wrath. "How could you be with them?"

"With them? Who's them? It used to be us, now it's them?" I flip back onto the wall and turn away.

I cling to the walls and turn to meet her eyes once more. I want her to feel the full import of what I am about to say. "Tony Stark killed Captain America. Captain America is dead. And he died fighting for our freedom right here in America! Listen to the words, Carol. Captain America is dead." They hit her like a slap to the face. Her confidence and command slips away. "Now tell me again what you're doing."

"He's not," she says. She's not wholly sure she believes it, but she believes it in part. This is new information, and the surprise that crosses my face is genuine--"What?"

"He's not," she says. I lean forward, thrusting myself into her personal space. The wind whips my hair inches away from her face.

"You're lying."

"He's tucked away in the Raft. No one knows. No one. They're trying to save his life even as we speak." I knew none of this, even though I have men in SHIELD. I've been juggling so many gourds of late--extricating myself from Hydra, fighting the war, keeping my secrets safe from my teammates--that I haven't been able to give the invasion plan the attention it deserves.

"How is he not dead?"

"What am I, a super soldier serum expert?" She throws up her hands. "He's not dead!"

For a moment, we stand silently together, facing each other in the air. I am crouched defensively on the building, my face to the ground. Carol Danvers' eyes wander up toward my rear. A not uncommon reaction to this form, but here in this moment, it is not an irritation but a victory. "And I'm not just talking you, either," she says, breaking the harsh silence. "Nick Fury too. The both of you, come back to work. It feels to me, maybe to you as well, that these are truly important times for us." You don't know the half of it, darling. "It's time to make the decisions that will define us--maybe forever. And I'd hate to see you throw your life away when there's so much more you could be doing. Other than running and hiding."

"You know what? This is bull." I point my finger at her. "Tony Stark hates me." She trusts Stark not only because she is a soldier at heart and he is her commanding officer, but because he is a friend and her AA sponsor, someone who was there for her in dark times--just like Jessica Drew. I make it clear to her that she is in a situation where she has to choose between two of the people she values the most.

"No," she says. "Actually, before this all started, he was asking me a lot of personal questions about you. I think he was going to ask you out."

"What?" Oh Carol. I've picked up signs of attraction from Stark--and many of the men in Jessica Drew's life--but none as strongly as you. You poor, foolish woman. Did you think Stark wanted that because that's what you'd want if you were in his position? Are you afraid to admit it? Are you afraid of how much worse your guilt and fear would be if you knew just how much you loved Jessica Drew?

"But--this thing with you and Nick Fury--whatever it is you two are up to--Just come back in, Jessica." She drifts through the air, drawing closer to me.

"Thanks for not beating me up, I guess."

"You are one of the most important people in my life. You were there for me in my--my worst moment. Please don't get yourself killed for something you can't control."

I say nothing. I drink in the look of naked fear and longing on her face. I have won.

I glide away into the air, letting Carol Danvers stew in her guilt. I took the anti-registration side because that is what Jessica Drew would do, and because it gave me more freedom of movement. But now I have an in for the other side. Carol Danvers is one of the flagship members of Stark's Avengers. She is one of the pillars of his Initiative. And she is utterly, utterly devoted to Jessica Drew. 

I will learn all her weaknesses and through her, those of Stark's heroes and his system. And I will bring them crashing down to earth.

****

Pagon is dead.

She--I cannot help but her as 'she' even though she wore a masculine aspect much of the time before she took Elektra's form. But she suited that form so well. We had much joy in these human forms as well as in our own. Pagon was utterly ruthless, passionate yet cold, everything a Skrull infiltrator could aspire to be.

And now she is dead. Stabbed by one of my own teammates, Echo. I have put in the order to have her killed and replaced as soon as possible.

Pagon and I were lovers. It felt wrong for me to allow myself such a personal indulgence, and yet the Taramak lords have had such before. Great poems have been written about our affairs. Perhaps Pagon could have been my consort, standing back to back with me in battle and slaying our enemies. But that could never be.

After her death I knew it was time to change sides. I could not stand to be in the same room as those who killed Pagon, but that alone did not sway me. I am strong. He loves me. But I knew that now that the secret was out, I had to bring the corpse to Stark as soon as I could, to sow fear and distrust in his side--and to make sure I was the one who controlled the flow of information.

As soon as Stark announced me to his team, Carol Danvers was overjoyed. She embraced me instantly. Now we are alone together, in the Avengers kitchen. Carol leans back on the counter. Her smile is more confident than it has been in months. "You'll love it here, Jess," she says. "Jarvis makes the best crepes. You'll adore them."

This Jarvis is one of our men, and he is famed throughout all that remains of the Empire for his cooking. He has poisoned several galactic magistrates with his fine dishes.

I sip on the coffee Carol has made. She sits beside me and slips her arm on my shoulder. And then, suddenly, I find myself crying. My soul had been pierced by the sorcerer's spell, the defenses made by my science-priests barely holding together, and I had said nothing. I had borne the dead body of my lover to Stark in a bag and shed no tear. But now all the tears came rushing out at once.

"Oh jeez, you're crying." She wraps her strong arms around me. "What's wrong, Jess."

"Everything. Everything is wrong." I bang my fist on the table, spilling drops of coffee. "I hate this. All of this. I'm just thinking of--of everyone we've lost. Goliath and Captain America and the rest. It's not worth it. None of this was worth it. Tony was wrong but Steve was wrong too--if anyone could have gotten through to Tony, gotten him to see what he was doing and stop the worst of it, it was him, but he didn't want to, he just wanted to win and he wanted to make Tony pay, and-- I'm just tired of this war. My parents wanted me to be a monster, and Hydra wanted me to be a killer, but I just want to be a person. And now I can't. We all started out with these grand dreams of a righteous cause but it was all just an excuse to hurt people. I don't want to hurt people anymore."

"The war is over, Jess. We're on the same side now. You don't have to." She pulls her chair up close to mine and strokes her fingers through my hair. I did not know that she could be so tender.

"It's never over, Carol. There's always someone with another grudge. I wish everything would just stop. Carol--?"

"Yeah?"

"What if we just ran away? Together? What if we went to, I don't know, Canada--"

"Alpha Flight already has a Spider-Woman, and she kind of hates my guts."

"We could still go to Canada. Canada's pretty big. Or France, or Switzerland, or--just get away from all this." I grin at her through my tears. "How does that sound, Carol?"

Carol shakes her head. "Jess, we're at war with the Skrulls now. Everything could fall apart. I can't run away."

"Carol." I press my tear-streaked cheek close to hers. "Sometimes I wish you weren't such a goddamn hero." I spit out an ugly cry-laugh. "And I wish I weren't such a coward. I don't have the strength to do what needs to be done."

"Jess, listen--you are not a coward. I'll tell you a secret" She whispers in my ear: "You're the best."

I hate her.

She is everything I despise--a hybrid of human and Kree. She would have killed Pagon if she could. She would kill us all. I have to kill her first.

I will play on her yearning for Jessica. I will make her love me. She will be mine, body and soul. And then I will turn on her when she least expects it, and show her my face--my true face--and it will be the last thing she ever sees.

****

The war is almost over now. One way or another.

We underestimated the humans. We did not realize they would put aside their grudges and resentments so quickly and draw together to fight us. We did not know their villains would join their heroes on the last battlefield.

Their army is massed against us, with two great warriors thought lost forever--Thor and Bucky, now Captain America--at their head.

But we have won harder battles. We are Skrull. I am Taramak. I am the hand of Mak'jar. He loves us.

In the chaos of the final battle, the moments that follow are lost are lost to history:

Carol Danvers crashes to the ground with the impact of a missile. She has been hunting the battlefield, searching for me. I show my true face, now, but I am still wearing Jessica's costume.

"You." Her eyes blaze with wrath and her hands crackle with death. "Tell me. Where is Jessica Drew?"

"She is dead," I tell her. "She is gone forever."

"She'd better not be," said Carol. "Because if she is, I swear to god--I won't even need the rest of these people. I will tear your army apart with my own hands."

"There never was a Jessica Drew. It was me. It was me all along. I was the one who pulled you out of the waters after your fight with Rogue. You owe everything to me."

"Bullshit!" She blasts a beam that sears my shoulder. I fall down to the ground.

And now it has come to the end, me against her, as I always knew it would be. One way or another, it will end with us. I will kill her, or--what if I do not? What if she lives? Then I will show her pain. I will break her will. I will make her beg for death. Or--no, I do not want to break her. She is too useful. I am the rightful ruler of this world. Once she understands that, surely she will serve me. Perhaps she will even be my consort. I will add her lightning bolt to the standard of Taramak. We will stand together--human and Kree and Skrull--and all the galaxy will fear us.

No. She is too dangerous. I must kill her now. I must. In this distracted state, it would be so easy. I let the venom-blast flow into my arm.

"He loves you," I want to say. But the words that come from my mouth are "I love you."

I point my fingers at her. Nothing comes out. I cannot raise a hand against her.

Carol Danvers does not notice. She strikes me with the full force of her Kree-born strength. She does not realize that I am not fighting back against her. She is not here, in the battlefield. She is in the absence where Jessica Drew is not.

She grips my throat and presses me to the ground and punches my face, again and again. I struggle to change form and escape her grip. All has been lost. I must leave now. I must make another plan, find a way to destroy her, and then I will be free. At last I become a mess of slime and slip through her grasp, take my own form and stand tall again, and prepare my retreat.

And then too late I see him, moving through the battle with the dreadful grace of a beast of prey--Norman Osborn. He raises his gun to slay me. Weakened by my struggle against an enemy I cannot fight, I cannot stop the bullet that pierces my brain. The remains of my brain strain to reshape themselves and take the place of what was lost, but it is not enough. My corpse falls to the dirt of the Savage Land.

I see Carol gripping Norman Osborn by the throat, screaming that I was hers to kill, not his. He is laughing. It does not matter. This moment will not make the news. The media will show his victory against the enemy of mankind, and he has won.

For a moment, I see his other face, a face so strangely like my own god's. I should have known all along whose side He was truly on.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, I see the ship that holds our prisoners touch down. And I sense victory and relief from somewhere deep within the thoughts of Jessica Drew.

**Author's Note:**

> The second and third scenes are based on Ms. Marvel v2 #1 (Brian Reed and Roberto Delatorre) and Civil War: The Initiative #1 (Brian Michael Bendis and Top Cow Studios)


End file.
